To Be Alone With You
by Morfiwien Greenleaf
Summary: After Harold reveals Marian’s birthday gift a few weeks early, he must come up with the perfect present for his pregnant wife - and discovers a few surprises of his own...


_I'd sail the skies,  
Off to the farthest little star, I'd go;  
Sail the skies and watch the people disappear below.  
I would gladly give up ev'ry earthly thing I know,  
To be alone with you,  
To be alone with you._

I'd roam the earth and ev'ry corner of the Seven Seas,  
Roam the earth, and search the spray of ev'ry salty breeze;  
I would let the raging oceans take me where they please,  
To be alone with you.

_~Robert Preston, Ben Franklin in Paris_

XXX

After his hard work learning the piano came to fruition on that warm night in early May when Marian revealed she was expecting, Harold Hill found himself left without a birthday gift for his beloved. So over the next few weeks, he set about mulling over several potential schemes – all of which he ultimately rejected as being inappropriately grandiose, or not grandiose enough. Normally, Harold wasn't a man to panic, but as the deadline approached, he started to grow anxious. He had to come up with something, and soon; he couldn't let such an important anniversary pass without marking the occasion with his usual flair.

Usually, Harold was a whiz at coming up with a workable plan on short notice, but this time, he was strangely stymied. Marian's poignant reaction to seeing him play the piano, after she had given up any hope of him ever learning the instrument, had surpassed the expectations of even his joyful anticipation of her satisfaction. But even if he had more time – an extremely precious and rare commodity what with the Flag Day and Fourth of July concerts fast approaching – how could he possibly top _Für Elise_?

It wasn't until the eve of Marian's birthday, when Harold arrived home from the emporium around nine o'clock – a habit that was starting to become far too common during the past several weeks – that he finally hit upon the perfect gift.

Even though the sun had barely set, the house was quiet and still; Marian had long since retired for the evening. Though his wife's nausea had finally abated, her proneness to exhaustion remained. Of course, her strong sense of duty prevented her from neglecting the housekeeping; Harold always came home to a clean house and a good meal. But as the music professor ate his dinner in lonely silence, he reflected he would gladly have sacrificed a little neatness and nourishment for seeing a little less fatigue in his dear librarian's eyes and smile – or simply seeing her at all. Most nights, Marian was in bed by eight; Harold could count on one hand the evenings he had spent with his wife during the past month. He supposed he could have woken her up – whenever he had done so in the past, she had happily welcomed the additional quality time with him – but now her health was of paramount importance, worth much more than a few fleeting kisses or caresses. But boy, did he miss those caresses.

Letting out an uncharacteristically weary sigh, Harold placed his dinner dishes in the sink and started to head upstairs to bed. He still hadn't thought of just the right birthday gift for Marian, and his back-up plan – a bouquet of yellow roses and a basket of butterscotch candies – lacked originality or charm. If only he had a little more time…

Harold froze mid-step. Time. That was it!

A triumphant grin lighting up his haggard expression, the music professor turned and bolted back downstairs. Entering the music room, he rifled through his spare instrument cases until he found one for a tuba. After hastily putting everything back in order, Harold gleefully went around the kitchen and parlor, collecting various supplies he would need to carry out his plan. Once he had accomplished his task, he stowed the tuba case deep in the front hall closet. By now, an hour had passed and he was even more exhausted than before, but Harold still wore a grin as he went upstairs to bed. Time, which had been his enemy of late, would soon become his ally.

XXX

The morning of June seventh dawned warm and sunny, and Harold rose an hour before his usual waking time. By the time Marian's alarm went off, Harold was fully dressed and standing next to their bed, waiting to present his dear little librarian with the roses and butterscotch.

As Harold reached over to switch off the alarm, Marian stirred and awoke. The moment her sleep-befuddled gaze cleared and settled upon him, he gave her a kiss on the forehead and handed her the trinkets. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."

Marian gazed at him with a weary but fond expression. "Oh, Harold," she said tenderly, burying her nose in the flowers. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble… "

Harold chuckled as she breathed in the scent of her roses. "It was no trouble at all, darling," he replied earnestly. "Are you planning to open the library today?"

Marian nodded, still luxuriating in her flowers. "Just for the morning, though. Then I'm supposed to help you at the emporium this afternoon, remember?"

"Perfect," Harold said with breezy cheer. "And you'll be home for lunch, as usual?"

"Of course." She lowered the roses and raised an eyebrow at him. "Just what are you up to now, _Mister_ Hill?"

He chuckled again. "That's for me to know and you to find out – _Missus_ Hill."

Marian laughed and gazed at him with affectionate exasperation. "Harold, you don't need to go overboard for my birthday. I'm quite happy with the roses and butterscotch."

Harold regarded his wife with an enigmatic smile. "I think you're going to enjoy your present, darling." He bent over and gave her a quick kiss, patting her stomach as he did so. "Goodbye, little one," he cooed. "I'll be home at noon – be good for your mother."

Marian's cheerful expression faded into one of disappointment. "You're not going to eat breakfast with me?"

"As much as I'd like to, I can't," he said ruefully. "I've got an early rehearsal for the Flag Day concert."

Her eyes widened. "But you always eat breakfast with me." She paused, and then quietly added, "Lately, that's the only meal we ever have together."

Harold felt a twinge of conscience – he _had_ been working extremely long hours – but he brushed it aside. "I know, darling," he acknowledged. Then his voice brightened. "But today, we'll have the whole afternoon to ourselves!"

"Yes – working together," Marian replied in a gloomy voice as she placed the roses and butterscotch on her end table.

At that, Harold paused and looked closely at his wife; it was very unlike her to make such disparaging remarks. Normally, he would never have considered revealing even a small part of his plans, but concern urged him to be a little more forthright than usual; even after a full night's sleep, Marian looked a little too pale and listless for his liking. "Darling, I'm not planning on us doing any work at all this afternoon," he said gently, sitting on the bed and taking her hands in his. "I thought you could use a break – you've been exhausted lately."

The librarian gave him a sly smile, and he was gratified to see a little color return to her cheeks. "Harold," she said meaningfully, gazing at him with blatant invitation, "I'm not exhausted right now… "

Harold suddenly had the strong urge to crawl back into bed with Marian. Rehearsal wasn't for an hour – surely, he could linger with his wife just a little while longer. But he knew if he surrendered to that temptation, he wouldn't be leaving the house for quite awhile. And Harold couldn't afford to skip that morning's rehearsal – the emporium had recently seen an influx of new students who really needed the practice, and the Flag Day concert was next week.

As if she knew what he was thinking, Marian's face darkened with disappointment. Giving his wife a mischievous grin, Harold raised her hands to his lips and replied in his low, velvety voice, "Well, conserve your energy, darling, because you'll need it this afternoon."

Just as he hoped, Marian's crestfallen expression perked up into one of intrigue. "Very well then," she said with a resigned smile. "See you at lunchtime, Harold."

XXX

When Harold returned home that afternoon, he was delighted to see Marian awaiting his arrival in their front hall – and he was especially pleased to note the extra care she had taken with her ensemble. As her stomach was steadily expanding to accommodate her condition, the librarian had recently purchased a few new gowns, in the interests of ensuring her continued comfort and modesty. Today she was wearing Harold's favorite of her new dresses: a pale-green lingerie frock trimmed with Valenciennes lace. Atop her head was a matching green hat, also trimmed with lace, as well as pink ribbon and a spray of pink-and-white roses. She had even set her hair in those charming banana curls he loved.

However, although his wife greeted him pleasantly enough and returned his kiss hello, Harold noticed a certain coolness in her demeanor that hadn't been present earlier that morning. "Is anything the matter, darling?" he asked, concerned.

"Not at all," Marian promptly replied.

Though he heard a slight edge to her voice as she spoke these words, Harold felt it would behoove him to proceed carefully, and decided not to pursue the matter further at this time. So he grinned as if nothing was amiss and asked, "Are you feeling up to a walk with me?"

Marian looked confused. "Do you mean a stroll to the footbridge?"

Harold shook his head. "No darling – a walk," he said meaningfully. "A _long_ walk."

For the first time since he had arrived home, Marian's smile reached her eyes. "Oh, Harold," she said dreamily, "that would be wonderful."

"Then wait here, while I change," Harold said with a wink. "I'll be about fifteen minutes."

XXX

When Harold came downstairs, all smiles, he was surprised to observe that Marian's demeanor had once again turned cool – though he did see a small glimmer of desire flit across her gaze as she eyed his green suit-coat and smoothly-shaven face. But instead of beaming at her husband, as she normally would have in such circumstances, the librarian gave him a brief, polite nod, as if she were greeting a distant acquaintance. His cheer dampened by this rather frosty reception, Harold frowned and asked, "Are you sure you're feeling well, Marian? We can save the long walk for another time – "

Marian's eyes narrowed. "I'm fine, Harold," she snapped. "As I've told you time and again, I'm pregnant – not an invalid."

Though Harold felt his own temper flare at this remark – lately, Marian had become awfully prone to peevishness, and this newfound tendency of hers was beginning to grate on his nerves – he quelled this feeling. Once they reached their destination and enjoyed a leisurely lunch together, he was certain Marian's mood would improve. The last thing he wanted to do was argue with her; there was no sense spoiling what promised to be a lovely afternoon. Giving his wife a sunny smile, he retrieved the tuba case from the front-hall closet and motioned for Marian to exit the house before him.

"What are you carrying that for?" she asked curiously as they rounded the corner of East Pine.

"Not so easy to slip off together these days, is it?" Harold said nonchalantly, waving at several passerby. "This tuba case will make people think we're on our way to the emporium. A picnic basket would be a dead giveaway – I don't want a single soul to know where we're going to be this afternoon."

Marian turned her gaze to the sidewalk in front of them. "Good thinking," she replied, her tone approving but terse.

Harold chuckled. The more time passed, the more entrenched he had become in the town's affairs; there were few River City-ziens whom he had never met. As such, courtesy dictated he acknowledge his many acquaintances with at least a nod when he was out and about, and they often detained him to ask questions or make small talk. Since Marian had blossomed socially, she was also sought after quite often; Harold could recall more than a few occasions when a promising afternoon alone with his wife was curtailed by an unexpected caller. He smiled ruefully. "I suppose the constant interruptions are good for one thing – they're preparing us for what things will be like with a child."

"Indeed," Marian muttered in a morose voice. Harold immediately glanced at her, but she still stared determinedly ahead.

Thinking it best to leave her be, Harold didn't say anything in response. Fervently hoping Marian would brighten once she'd had a little rest and refreshment, he did not break the silence or even attempt any affectionate gestures – not even after they had reached the outskirts of River City and began walking along the lonely, unpaved road leading to their destination. This primitive thoroughfare soon dwindled into mere plow furrows across farmland, and it wasn't until they left the trail to traverse the field where it sloped upward that Harold tentatively put his arm around Marian's waist. They had been walking for about a half hour under a hot sun, and the ascent, though gradual, could prove rather tiring. Indeed, as they made their way upward, Harold felt beads of sweat forming beneath his collar and where his hand feverishly grasped the tuba case, and Marian's face was growing flushed with exertion – and they still had a good five minutes before they reached the top of the hill.

But to his dismay, Marian initially rebuffed Harold's attempts to support her, and pressed on at a quickened pace. However, by the time they neared the summit, she was leaning on him out of sheer exhaustion. Despite his alarm at her fatigue and distress at her refusal to touch him any more than was necessary, Harold didn't waste time feeling miffed – Marian's health was paramount at the moment, and it was imperative that he get her to their destination before the heat made her faint.

When they finally reached the trio of oak trees at the top of the hill, Marian removed her hat and, sighing with relief as a breeze ruffled her curls, patted her forehead with a handkerchief. Meanwhile, Harold lost no time opening the tuba case and taking out its contents. Spreading a blanket in the cool shade, he propped a few pillows against the base of one of the trees and helped his wife into her makeshift seat. He was relieved to see real gratitude in Marian's eyes and smile when she thanked him for his assistance.

"I'd wondered where those parlor pillows had gone," she said, sounding amused.

Harold was further cheered by Marian's playful remark, and he once again dared to hope that her sour mood was simply due to exhaustion. Though neither of them spoke as they ate lunch, their silence was much more companionable. Once they had both finished with their sandwiches, Harold decided to test the waters. After taking off his suit-coat and draping it carefully next to Marian's hat, he scooted closer to his wife.

"I've been looking forward to being alone with you like this all morning," he said in his low, velvety voice. "Have I told you how lovely you look today, my dear little librarian?"

Marian let out a low laugh as he began to drop light kisses on her neck. "If you simply wanted to canoodle, you could have just taken me upstairs when you got home," she pointed out.

Harold smiled against her bare skin. "I wanted to make sure we could canoodle with absolutely no possibility of interruption." He wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her closer. "Here, there's no one around for miles… "

"That's true," she said softly, closing her eyes and letting out a small gasp as Harold's mouth located a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.

As Marian tilted her head back and relaxed in his embrace, Harold dipped his head until it was resting against the telltale curve of her condition. His hands soon joined his lips in stroking her swollen stomach, and it wasn't long before he began whispering tender endearments to their unborn child.

Normally when he did this, Marian sighed in rapt delight and held him even more tightly against her, but this time she stiffened and her hands, which had been raking through his hair in a gentle caress, fell back to her sides.

Harold immediately sat up straight. "What's the matter, now?" he asked in a tone much harsher than he intended.

"Pardon me," Marian said, sounding just as annoyed, "but did you wish to be alone with me, or my stomach?"

Even at this unpromising juncture, Harold was determined to make the most of their time together. Swallowing his hurt feelings, he regarded his wife with an apologetic smile and focused his attentions elsewhere. Although he could feel Marian making a concerted effort to respond to his caresses with enthusiasm, he knew she was simply enduring his embrace.

Once again, Harold ended things. "Marian, you've been nothing but aloof since I've seen you this afternoon," he said crossly, giving full rein to the resentment that had been steadily building within him for the past few hours. "I've repeatedly asked you what's the matter, but you won't tell me." He stood up. "Well, I'm sick and tired of tiptoeing on eggshells around you. Either you tell me what's wrong – or come look for me at the music emporium when you're ready to talk!"

Marian gazed at him with icy imperiousness. "Perhaps I'm simply not in the mood to canoodle today."

Harold let out a disbelieving guffaw. "That didn't seem to be the case a few minutes ago," he chortled. "And this morning, you all but dragged me back to bed!"

Marian scowled. "I suppose a woman can't change her mind?" she asked acidly, finally revealing the full measure of her anger. "Well, she certainly can, and does – especially when she comes downstairs to a pile of dishes in the sink, a mess in the parlor and instrument cases scattered all over the music room. For a man who professes to 'tiptoe on eggshells,' you certainly left quite a trail behind you!" Harold opened his mouth to protest, but he was unable to get a word in edgewise as she continued her blistering tirade. "Did you honestly think that after declining to spend the morning with me – after you've spent hardly any time with me in _weeks_ – and then leaving me all that extra work, I'd simply forget my hurt and disappointment and fall into your arms? But you always expect me to fall into your arms, don't you – when _you_ deem it convenient."

Harold's mouth fell open. "What?" he sputtered, his usual eloquence and composure utterly shattered. "Of course not – that's not – how could you think – " No longer able to contain the fury welling up inside of him, he exclaimed, "Well, if that's the way you feel, then I won't touch you at all!"

It wasn't often that Harold regretted what he said, but when Marian gaped at him with stricken eyes, as if he had confirmed her worst fear, he wished he could take back his words. When her shoulders slumped and she buried her face in her hands, he felt as low as he had that day in the emporium when he had inadvertently bruised her neck with a love-bite. For a few awful moments, he guiltily watched as his wife's body was wracked with muffled, gasping sobs.

Unable to bear it any longer, Harold knelt down next to her and gently put his hands on her trembling shoulders. "Marian – darling – sweetheart," he entreated in a low, pained voice. "I should never have said that – please forgive me."

After a few moments, Marian raised her head to look at him. "Harold, do you find me repulsive?" she asked plaintively, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

Harold was so shocked his hands fell from her shoulders. "Repulsive?" he repeated, his mind reeling at the ridiculousness of such a concept. "Now where in the world would you get that idea?"

Marian pulled out a handkerchief and brushed the tears from her cheeks. "Since the onset of my condition, you've seen me at my worst – both physically and emotionally," she said softly. "And it's been weeks since you've given me a deep kiss or caressed me more than a few moments – let alone made love to me." Her gaze dropped to her hands, which nervously twisted the fabric of her handkerchief. "I couldn't help wondering if I was starting to become less attractive to you – "

Harold's eyes narrowed. "Marian," he said sternly, "you can't think of any other reason why I might refrain from making love to you as often? For one, I've been busy with work and trying to provide for my growing family, as is a man's duty – "

"Yes, work has been a very convenient excuse for you, hasn't it?" she observed, regarding him with a skeptical expression. "Are you so swamped that you couldn't have moved rehearsal to this afternoon and spent the morning with me, for once?"

"Well, there's also the matter of you never being around," he retorted. "Are _you_ so swamped that you have to tire yourself with endless housecleaning? Every single night I come home, you're already asleep! Even on the few days I've come home at my regular time, you retire to bed as soon as you're able. Couldn't you save up enough energy to be awake for me, for once?"

Marian bristled. "Would you have me shirk _my_ duties? It would be indecent to let my husband go about in rumpled clothes or do without three square meals a day!"

Harold gritted his teeth in frustration. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. And to be perfectly honest, I've been getting the impression that most of the time you'd rather I kept my distance. Not to mention I'm never entirely sure what your moods will be – you blow hot one minute, and cold the next!"

There was bright flash of emotion in Marian's eyes, but before Harold could determine just what it was, the usual bleak exhaustion clouded her gaze and she gave a listless shrug. "What difference would it make if I stayed awake for you?" she asked unhappily. "You'd probably just spend the time making sure I didn't move a muscle without your assistance."

"Well, excuse me for trying to look out for the well-being of the mother of my child," Harold said, his voice bitter.

"That's exactly my point – you only ever see me as a vessel for motherhood anymore," she sighed, looking away. "Sometimes, I think you've forgotten I'm a woman!"

Harold grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. "Marian, I have _never_ forgotten that," he said in a heated voice. "The reason I don't kiss you too deeply or hold you too tightly is because your health is more important to me than anything. My restraint has been entirely for your sake, Marian. How do you think I would feel if anything happened to you or the baby because I couldn't control myself?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of Marian's lips. "I'm not _that_ fragile, Harold," she said, rolling her eyes.

Her amused exasperation only inflamed Harold further. "Marian, do you know how hard it's been for me during these past few weeks?" he burst. "Do you want to know why I've been working all those long hours? You might not be able to see it, but pregnancy has made you more desirable, not less. My wanting you hasn't gone away at all. If anything, it's only been exacerbated; our recent trysts have been some of the most intensely passionate lovemaking I've ever experienced with you. In fact, if it wasn't for your condition – why, I'd make love to you right here in this field!"

Once again, Harold wished he could eat his words – Marian blushed furiously crimson and dropped her gaze to her hands once more.

"I'm sorry – I didn't mean to be inappropriate," he said hastily. When she didn't reply, he sighed and let go of her shoulders. Putting even more distance between them, Harold said in a chastened voice, "Even if it wasn't for your condition, I respect you far too much to engage in that kind of behavior in public… "

Marian's head snapped up, and he saw that strong emotion in her eyes again: passion, laced with a heavy dose of shame. "Harold – do you know that even despite my condition, I would be hard pressed to say no to you out here?" Her cheeks crimsoned again, and she looked away. "I've always had that difficulty... "

Harold goggled at her. "Marian," he said wonderingly as memories of the first time they visited here together came rushing back, "do you mean to tell me – "

XXX

It was a little over a week since Marian had reconciled with Harold at the emporium and learned of the heart-wrenching fate of his father. Since that day, she had been privy to an almost dizzying influx of information about Harold's life. He was like a spigot that suddenly opened; once he began talking, the stories just kept coming and coming.

It was fall in Iowa; the air was delightfully crisp and the trees were a burst of color – the perfect backdrop for heart-to-heart talks. Nearly every day, Marian took strolls with Harold, and he told her something about his past. Some days, he talked for hours. Harold laid out his prior history with such rapid, earnest zeal that it seemed almost as if he was eager to make up for lost time – or felt he didn't have a lot of time to tell her everything he wanted to say. Marian surmised this was a side effect of being used to life as a nomadic conman; Harold had been on the move for over two decades, and the luxury of permanency was still new to him.

Perhaps she should have urged him to pace himself a bit more as he adjusted to his new circumstances, but Marian couldn't restrain her curiosity; she eagerly drank in everything he told her. Much of it was unpleasant to hear, but nothing Harold said dimmed her love for him, or her desire to know him better. It probably helped, of course, that he often demonstrated remorse for his actions. And even when he didn't, his willingness to reveal himself to her showed just how committed he was to putting his past behind him and starting a new life in River City – though of course, Marian did not dare to presume what that might mean for her.

But in her eagerness, she initially overlooked how much of an additional strain this put on Harold. He would always be a man who attracted crowds and, though he usually gloried in and thrived on being at the center of attention, even he needed a break from the limelight every now and again. But in this small town, he had no place for solitude and quiet reflection. The music professor was a busy man; from the moment he left his house early in the morning to when he finally returned home late in the evening, he was assailed by people seeking his opinions on and assistance with several subjects.

And gradually, it was wearing him down. One afternoon, when Marian closed the library early so she could help him at the music emporium – something she did three afternoons a week – she was surprised to find the main auditorium empty. Usually, Harold was waiting for her with a chipper grin and energetic demeanor. But even though he wasn't there, Marian didn't have an inkling of trouble. Figuring the busy music professor had gotten caught up in paperwork, she went down the hall to his office. The door was ajar and, after courteously giving a gentle knock, Marian entered the room.

Indeed, Harold was sitting at his desk. But instead of being industrially at work, he was staring vacantly at his pocket watch. On his face was the glum, drained expression of a man who yearned for peace but was having difficulty finding it. As Marian debated whether or not it would be wise to interrupt, Harold turned and spotted her.

"Marian – you're early!" he said with a grin. But his eyes didn't shine with their usual vivacious luster.

"Actually, I'm running precisely three minutes behind," she gently pointed out, a sympathetic smile tugging at the edges of her lips. Harold must have been in a terribly tired state, if he had lost track of the time even with a watch in his hand.

But her smile disappeared when the music professor cast a confirming glance at his pocket watch. The moment he saw she was correct, his eyes widened in guilty alarm, as if she had caught him doing something wrong. In fact, his expression was downright cagey – a look Marian had seen many times before that eventful day in the emporium when he had finally started to open up to her. But before she could ask Harold what the matter was, he hastily stowed the watch in the pocket of his suit-coat and rose from his chair.

"Well, what say we go over the music, then?" he asked in a falsely bright, cheerful voice.

Marian's first impulse was to be hurt, and she wondered if he was regretting how much he had divulged to her. But as she gazed thoughtfully at Harold, she realized that now wasn't the time. He had shared a lot of himself with her – more than he had probably ever shared with any other person – and it was high time she returned the favor. Coming to a quick decision about something she had been mulling over for the past few weeks, Marian replied, "I think there's something more important for us to do right now than go over music."

Even though she had kept her tone light and easy, Harold sighed, and her heart ached to see he looked like a man utterly defeated. "Marian," he began wearily, almost pleadingly.

She gently placed her hand over his mouth. "I apologize for disturbing you in your office, but I thought we might forgo the activities we had planned for this afternoon. It's such a beautiful fall day, I thought we might take a ramble instead."

He warily raised an eyebrow at her. "A ramble?"

Marian smiled at this utterly unsurprising reaction. "Yes… there's something I've been wanting to show you. But there's one catch, Professor."

The suspicion in Harold's eyes began to abate as intrigue started to get the better of him. "What?" he asked curiously.

Her smile broadened. "You are not allowed to say a single word until we reach our destination."

Harold gazed uncomprehendingly at her, as if she had started to speak ancient Greek.

Repressing a laugh, Marian further informed him, "I'm not allowed to speak, either."

A twinkle of mischief danced across his eyes. "Is that so, Madam Librarian?"

"Yes," she said gravely. "But I warn you, we might have to be silent for quite awhile – a half hour at least. Do you accept those conditions?"

He gave her a crooked, uncertain smile. "May I at least ask where you're planning on taking me?"

She shook her head. "That would spoil the surprise." Walking to the door, Marian tossed a glance over her shoulder. "So are you game, Professor Hill?"

"Always," Harold said with a grin as he followed her out of the emporium.

XXX

As Marian led Harold along, purposely selecting avenues where they would be less likely to encounter people, her heart pounded heavily. It was a long way to be walking alone with him, and the last thing she wanted to do was add more fuel to fire. The River City-ziens already noted with scandalized glee the librarian and music professor's frequent footbridge visits and, in the past week, had begun to buzz excitedly about the ever-increasing amount of time the music professor and librarian were spending alone in each other's company.

Even Mrs. Paroo had begun to grow concerned, though Marian had repeatedly reassured her mother there was no cause for worry. Her meetings with Harold had grown quite serious in tone; though his regard for her was still evident in his eyes and smile, he rarely engaged in flirtatious banter or playfully tried to steal kisses, using the slenderest of pretexts to justify his actions.

Still, it was natural to expect that among Mrs. Paroo and the townspeople, speculation would be rife as to the day when, if ever, the two of them announced their engagement. Marian had even heard, to her shocked amusement, that a few of the more enterprising River City-ziens currently had a betting pool going. She could only imagine what the reaction would be if enough people saw the two of them going off like this.

But it was worth the risk. Harold was worth the risk. And he needed this.

It took them about forty-five minutes to reach their destination: a faraway field amidst the farms north of town. As it was used primarily as pastureland by the surrounding farms, the only other creatures Marian had ever shared the area with were cows, or the odd sheep. When they arrived at the cluster of oak trees at the top of the hill, Marian gently bade Harold to look at the breathtaking view, and was pleased to hear his sudden intake of breath as he did so.

"You can see everything from up here," he observed in a voice of quiet awe as he gazed at the distant River City buildings, which looked so small amidst the vast panorama of bright fall foliage. "But there's nothing or no one around for miles… "

"My father and I discovered this field on one of our strolls together, soon after our family came to River City." Marian smiled sadly. "When he could no longer take such long walks, I came here alone. This spot saved my sanity many times during the lonely years after Papa passed away. It's a good place to think; I come here whenever I need to escape."

Harold gazed at her with tender sympathy. "Is this where you went the day of the parade?"

Marian nodded. "Yes – though that's the only time I've needed to come here since meeting you," she was quick to explain. "But sometimes, before you came to River City, I would pack a book and a picnic lunch and spend whole afternoons here, in glorious solitude."

Harold's hand quietly found hers, and he turned to survey the land again. "You thought I could use a place like this," he said knowingly.

Marian nodded again. "I did. But I also wanted to let you into _my_ heart, Harold." Ignoring the blush spreading across her cheeks, she added, "I've never met anyone else here. I've never showed or even talked about this place with another soul."

Harold's free hand reached over and took hers, and he turned her toward him until they were looking into each other's eyes. His gaze was as awed as it had been when he was taking in the view surrounding them. "Thank you for sharing this with me, Marian."

When the next words out of his mouth were the opening to what promised to be a long story about how he came by the pocket watch he had been morosely staring at earlier, Marian placed her hand over his mouth. "You don't need to talk about your past today, Harold," she said kindly. "I brought you here to relax, not exorcise old demons."

When Harold continued to protest, Marian knew firmer action was needed. Walking over to one of the oak trees and taking a seat on the ground, she said with a touch of amused exasperation, "Well, if you're not going to take advantage of the peace and quiet, then I certainly will."

Looking too worn down to object any further, Harold wearily came over and took a seat next to her. "I suppose I could do with some rest," he acknowledged, the exhaustion apparent in his voice. As Marian smiled triumphantly and leaned back against the tree's trunk, Harold stretched his arms, let out a yawn and laid down. "A nap would be wonderful, actually… "

Perhaps it was because she had always dreamed of sharing this place with the man she loved. Perhaps it was because being this alone with Harold made her feel bold. Or perhaps it was merely as simple as feeling a sad twinge at seeing her haggard beau shivering on the cold, hard ground. Whatever the cause, Marian found herself softly calling out her beloved's name. When he looked up, she patted her lap. "Harold, why don't you come here?" she suggested, her voice quiet and serious.

Harold gazed at her with unabashed longing. "Oh Marian," he sighed ruefully, "I really shouldn't… "

Marian simply looked at him with steady affection. Unable to resist the invitation she so sweetly offered, Harold sat up and moved closer. Once his head was resting on her lap, he looked up at her with a wan smile. "You don't fight fair, Madam Librarian."

She smoothed back a curl that had worked its way loose from his carefully-coifed wave. "I thought that's what you liked about me, Professor Hill," she said with a sly smile.

As Harold's eyes closed and he dozed off, Marian's smile faded, and she gazed at him with hungry, unconcealed yearning. How many times in the past had she imagined this exact tableau? Even before she met Harold, she had always longed to share this place with her white knight, stroking his hair as he sought repose in her lap, until her own eyes closed and she joined him in a peaceful afternoon nap.

But now that those dreams had become a reality, Marian couldn't join Harold in restful slumber. She was too acutely aware of the feel of him in her lap – the back of his head pressing on her thighs, his cheek resting lightly against the flat plane of her stomach. They had shared deep kisses, rested their heads in the curve of each other's necks, and clung together with arms wrapped tightly around each other, but they had never been close this way. Marian sat frozen with nervousness, hardly daring to breathe and terrified her now-unsettled stomach would let out an embarrassing rumble. When Harold shifted in his sleep, his cheek brushing insistently against her abdomen as if he was trying to nestle even closer to her, she couldn't help closing her eyes and letting out a small gasp when his motions sent the most delightful shivers coursing through her body. It was terribly improper what they were doing – not to mention quite dangerous – but at the same time, it felt more right than anything she had ever known.

At any other time, Marian would have been certain Harold moved that way on purpose. But his face didn't even twitch at her ardent little sigh – and he would never have let such an event go without at least smiling slightly. Apparently, he truly was asleep… or he was an even better actor than she realized. Tentatively, Marian brought her fingers to rest on Harold's forehead. When he still didn't twitch, she twined her fingers in his disheveled curls and gently began to caress his hair. Even then, Harold's demeanor was completely unchanged. Relaxing slightly – but still remaining intensely aware of the thrilling but alarming possibility that his head might shift in her lap again at any moment – Marian smiled at her sleeping beau and continued her ministrations.

This was the first time she had ever observed Harold when he wasn't awake. He looked so endearingly vulnerable yet content, Marian couldn't take her eyes off him – even though she probably should have. The longer she looked at Harold, the more she wanted to dip her head and cover his handsome face with kisses. But it was imperative that she quiet the unseemly thoughts whirling furiously in her mind. If Harold woke up and saw her like this, he _would_ kiss her, and it wouldn't do for both of them to completely abandon decorum.

As Marian struggled to regain control of her senses, Harold's eyes opened and, once his sleep-dazed vision cleared, he immediately sat up from her lap. She instantly schooled her features into a pleasant but neutral expression, but he didn't regard her with his normal scrutinizing gaze. He didn't even really look at her; instead, he seemed oddly self-conscious, and turned his attention to the view.

"Is anything the matter, Harold?" Marian asked, concerned.

After a moment, he looked at her again. "The reason I was looking at my watch like that earlier is because I found it waiting for me in my New York P.O. box around this time fifteen years ago. The watch belonged to my father, and Mother tried to give it to me several times. But I kept putting her off, telling her to save it and send it to me when she really needed me to come home." Harold paused and blinked until the glistening in his eyes faded. "The date on her letter indicated she'd sent me the watch six months ago. So I dropped everything and headed to California. But by the time I arrived, she'd already been dead for five months – consumption got her. It was my own damn fault I missed her, of course, but I always regretted not having the chance to say goodbye – "

"Harold," Marian interrupted, "as I said earlier, you don't have to tell me these things today – "

Now it was her turn to hush; Harold placed his finger gently on her lips. "It's fine, Marian," he said earnestly. "I want to tell you these things. I want to tell you everything. I'm flattered you shared this place with me, but being alone isn't what I really want – not anymore." Taking her hands in his, he helped her to her feet. "Unless it's being alone with you."

Harold was now looking at her with a heat and intensity that made her stomach flutter. Marian had seen flashes of this look before, even all the way back when he was just pursuing her as part of his con. Although she loathed him in those days, that fervent look of his had affected some primeval part of her; now she could admit her instincts yearned for the traveling salesman long before her heart did.

As they stood together handclasped, gazing at one another in the electric silence that always fell just before their more momentous embraces, Marian wondered just how passionately Harold was going to kiss her this time. Would he kiss her cheeks, ears and forehead, his hands and lips gently exploring every area the unwritten rules between them allowed? Or would he go beyond those boundaries? And would she let him? The sting of what happened in the emporium had gone away; all Marian remembered was the pleasure Harold had brought her when he gave her that love-bite. She wanted him to ardently trail his mouth across her bare neck; she wanted his hands to caress more than just her shoulders, arms and waist. Though he might not have known it, Harold wasn't the only one whose defenses were worn down; Marian would have done whatever he wished. He had her, body and soul, and she couldn't deny him any longer.

So Marian breathlessly waited for Harold to make his move. And for one brief, heart-stopping moment, he looked at her like he was going to take her in his arms and give her every single one of those kisses and caresses she had been imagining. But then he let out a long sigh and, though he continued to hold her hands in his, took a step back.

"I want more from you than kisses, Marian," Harold told her, his voice low and intense. "More even than heated embraces. I want the certainty and knowledge that you're mine forever – heaven knows I'm already yours. I want the privilege of being alone with you like this without anyone – and that includes you, darling – wondering about my intentions. Even though I told you that day in the emporium I couldn't guarantee I won't break your heart, I can't imagine that I ever will."

Just as Marian's eyes were widening as she gradually realized the significance of what he was saying – could another dearly-held dream be coming true? – Harold stopped himself, and took a deep breath. "But this isn't the time or the place… and for once in my life, I want to do things properly." Giving her a wistful smile, he let go of her hands. "So I think I'd better escort you home now, Miss Marian."

Marian knew she ought to feel flattered and relieved by this turn of events, but she couldn't help being slightly disappointed, as well. Masking her jumbled emotions with a gracious smile, she took Harold's proffered arm, and the two of them returned to civilization. As they walked along in silence, Harold placed his hand over hers as it rested on his arm and, when he casually stroked her ring finger once or twice, her heart hammered wildly.

But Marian didn't say a word. Nor did she drop a single, subtle hint – though she had the sense she probably could have gotten a marriage proposal from Harold if she pressed him enough. However, at the beginning of their relationship, she had vowed to herself she would never coax any promises out of him. And as thrilled as she was with the progress Harold was making, she knew he still needed time. So Marian filed that dear dream of hers away in the card catalog of her mind. For now, it was enough to know that he truly loved her; if he hadn't, he would have taken what he wanted long ago, and been done with River City forever.

When they reached the Paroo front porch, Harold turned to Marian with his trademark grin, and she rejoiced to see the resurgence of his usual high spirits. "Thank you again for the sightseeing tour this afternoon," he said in a booming, nonchalant voice. "River City certainly has its points of interest!"

Supposing this was for the benefit of her mother, who was likely keeping an eye on them from behind the parlor curtains, Marian cordially replied, "It was my pleasure, Professor Hill."

"I definitely plan to make use of the facilities you showed me in the future," Harold continued. With a wink, he leaned a little closer and added in a much lower voice, "And who knows? Perhaps I'll have company on a few of those strolls."

Now that they were back in River City and her defenses were solidly in place once more, Marian frowned at the implication of impropriety. But before she could scold Harold for his brazenness, he grinned and raised his voice again. "Are you available tomorrow afternoon? I wanted to discuss costumes for the Halloween masque."

Though he had made Marian an offer she couldn't refuse – the masque was only a few weeks away, and they hadn't even decided what they were going to be – she still managed to find a way to take him down a peg. "Why don't you come by the house, and we'll mull it over on the front porch," she suggested in a firm voice. Under her mother's watchful eye, the liberties he could take would be severely curtailed.

Harold chuckled, and she knew if he could have said touché to her without it sounding out of place, he would have. "I look forward to it," he graciously conceded.

But before Marian could revel too much in her triumph, Harold gave a quick glance around and, seeing that they were sufficiently hidden from view, wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close for a tender but ardent kiss. And she couldn't help surrendering to his embrace – even though she soon realized he had once again evened the score with this gesture.

Yet perhaps she wasn't completely defeated, after all; when Harold ended things a few moments later, his expression was just as smolderingly serious as it had been when they were alone together on the hill. "Marian," he whispered, leaning in so close she could feel his warm breath on her ear and neck, "I meant everything I said to you in that field, you know."

Her heart getting the better of her once more, Marian turned her head until her mouth found Harold's for a gentle, lingering kiss. "I know you did, Harold," she said softly, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. In the past when they stood together like this on her front porch, she had always limited her displays of affection to a brief peck on the cheek. If she had become this bold even in such an exposed place, how could she trust herself to be alone with him in the future?

Though he gazed at Marian with similar longing in his eyes, Harold simply grinned and bade her farewell. At that, she wryly reflected that although she was no longer sure she could trust herself, it was a blessing she could still trust him.

Hiding her disconcertment behind a cordial smile, Marian casually waved at Harold as he exited the front gate. As she watched the man she loved disappear around the corner of West Elm, she realized with a pang that although he might tease, he would never seriously ask her to accompany him to that field – at least, not unless he asked her another question first. So when Marian finally turned to go inside, she dreamed wistfully but hopefully of the day when she and Harold could be that alone together again.

XXX

Even after Marian's reminiscences ended, Harold gazed at his wife with spellbound eyes. He had always known she was a passionate woman, but he hadn't realized just how close she had been to giving herself to him that day. It was truly fortunate he hadn't known this – after months of wrestling with temptation, Harold had been fast approaching his limits; he doubted he would have been strong enough to resist her invitation.

"So you see, you're not the only one who's been trying to cope with such – feelings," Marian said shakily, her cheeks still crimson. "I was already passionately in love with you before, but now I feel even more so – keenly so. Mama says this is quite normal for a woman who's expecting; her emotions and cravings for many things intensify." She smiled wanly. "She says I should enjoy it while it lasts, because when the baby comes, these feelings will fade and I'll miss them." Her smile disappeared. "But when we make love – and like you said, it is intensely passionate – I think, this can't be good for the baby. Yet I can't help myself, and long for you. When we've finished, I feel so dreadfully wanton – "

"You are not wanton," he interjected, irritated.

" – so I've been spending my time sleeping, instead. But that only dulls those feelings for awhile, and I wake up with even more longing. I shouldn't have thrown myself at you like that this morning; I know your rehearsal was too important to miss – "

Harold shook his head. "I could have rescheduled," he acknowledged. "But I had grander plans; I wanted to make sure we were completely and utterly alone, with no chance for interruption. And so here we are – alone again," he said in a determinedly lighthearted voice, gesturing to the vista before them. "And everything was properly done, just as I promised. As tempting as it might have been to make love to you that day, I wasn't about to do anything that would rob you of your dignity or reputation. I told you I wanted more than mere kisses, and I meant it. I still want more than that, Marian."

Marian gazed at him with a rueful expression. "Harold," she said quietly, and opened her arms to him.

And instead of rebuffing Marian's overtures, as he promised himself he would, Harold found himself with his head in her lap. As she stroked his hair, he sighed and said, "Oh, Marian… you definitely don't fight fair."

"Neither do you," she replied with a smile.

Harold sat up and gave her a serious look. "Marian, if I'd had the ring on me that day, I would have proposed to you right here."

As she had the night of July twenty-third when he first asked her to the footbridge, Marian felt that wonderful, dreamy sensation welling up in the pit of her stomach as she gazed at her beloved. Though she had surmised this was true, somehow it still elated her to hear him confirm her suspicions. "Really, Harold?" she asked, beaming at him.

"Marian, you're not the only one who has a hard time with self-control out here," Harold said earnestly. He chuckled. "And wouldn't you know it, the ring was waiting for me at the post office that very afternoon – which I didn't discover until right after I had seen you safely home!" His smile faded. "But maybe it was best that I believed the ring was still on order from Des Moines."

Marian's brow crinkled. "Why?"

"Because," he said, taking her hands in his and tugging her nearer, "after I proposed, I would have _had_ to kiss you."

"That's assuming I said yes," she teased, but she eagerly moved closer to meet his mouth with hers.

At first, their kiss was light and gentle, as if they were still courting. Determined to maintain a respectful distance – after all, the hard ground of a field was no place to make love to his pregnant wife, and it was no use getting too worked up when they were many miles away from a comfortable bed – Harold didn't even put his arms around Marian, even though she soon pressed closer to him and sought to deepen their embrace.

But his resolve was severely tested when Marian broke their kiss and traced her lips along his jaw line until her mouth was brushing his ear. "Touch me, Harold," she whispered. "Please… "

Harold couldn't contain the tremble that swept through his body and shook his frame. "Where?" he croaked, his voice barely audible.

"Everywhere," she breathed.

Marian's alluring entreaty was an invitation even Harold's rational mind couldn't refuse – his heart certainly couldn't. Seemingly of their own volition, his hands reached out and grasped her shoulders, and he pulled his wife close for a searing kiss. _Never let the demands of tomorrow interfere with the pleasures and excitements of today_, was his last coherent thought before he surrendered to desire, his hands hungrily reacquainting themselves with his wife's tantalizing curves.

For a seemingly interminable interval, Harold knew nothing but the warmth and softness of Marian as she writhed blissfully in his arms, his tender but eager caresses eliciting from her the most delicious and delightful moans. He knew all too well that opportunities like this didn't come around often. Eight months had passed since Marian had first brought him here, and this was only their second visit to the field. After the birth of their first child, who knew when they'd be able to get back here again? Always a man to live life to the fullest, Harold knew if he didn't seize this opportunity, he'd sorely regret it.

But even as he delighted in bringing Marian unbridled pleasure, the former conman still retained a vestige of conscience. "Oh, my dear little librarian," he murmured in between kisses, "this is exactly why it was a good thing I didn't have the ring on me that day… "

Marian giggled and, wrapping her arms around Harold's neck, she pulled him to lie down with her. "It all worked out for the best," she agreed, nuzzling his neck. "But ssh, darling, no more talking… "

Harold was more than happy to acquiesce to his charming wife's embrace. Lying cuddled together on the blanket, they kissed and caressed each other until the warm, late-spring breezes reduced them to a drowsy stupor. Halting their ministrations but still holding each other close, Harold and Marian turned their faces heavenward to gaze at the puffy white clouds, before finally drifting off into a delightful doze.

XXX

When Marian awakened, the shadows had grown much longer and the air was cooler – though by her estimate, they had at least three or four hours of sunlight left. Still in a dreamy daze, it took her a few moments to register that Harold was now seated upright, watching her with his usual fond gaze and lightly stroking her stomach as she slept.

The moment their eyes met, he apologized and quickly moved his hand away, but when Marian smiled at him with genuine joy and assured him his actions weren't bothering her in the least, he relaxed and returned his hand to her stomach. "How are you doing, darling?" he gently inquired.

Though Marian was slightly stiff from lying on the ground for the past few hours, she felt better than she had in a long time. "Wonderful, Harold," she said softly.

Beaming at her, Harold helped her into a sitting position. "I couldn't bear to wake you up," he said affectionately. "You looked so peaceful and content."

Marian covered her mouth to mask a yawn. "How long have you been awake?" she asked, her voice still hoarse with sleep.

Harold paused, and she could tell he was thinking about it. "Probably about a half hour."

Her eyes widened. "That long? What were you doing, all that time?"

"Thinking," he said honestly.

Marian raised an eyebrow at her husband. "What about?"

"Nothing in particular," he replied with a devil-may-care shrug. "Just engaging in the sort of lazy, idle ponderings perfect for a sunny, faraway field: the lovely afternoon we just spent together… the first time we came here… how much I'm looking forward to what lies ahead for us… our child and the children we may yet have together… " He trailed off and smiled. "Take your pick, darling."

She smiled at him in return. "How many children do you want, Harold?" she asked curiously.

Lacing his fingers through hers, Harold brought Marian's hand to his lips for a tender kiss. "I was thinking two would be ideal."

"What – the heir and the spare?" Marian teased – though her heart gave a pleasant little flip-flop at the promptness of his reply. Clearly, she wasn't the only one who was anticipating building a family together.

"Exactly," he said cheerfully, before pausing and regarding her with earnest eyes. "But in all seriousness, there is some thought behind that number. It's not that I'm averse to children – I've always rather liked them. And I think you'd make a wonderful mother, whether you had one child or ten. It's just that given the difference in our ages, I'm likely to make you a widow, and I don't want to leave behind more than you can handle by yourself."

Marian's smile faded. It was a sobering thought, the idea of having a large brood to care for and no husband to help her.

"But – knock on wood – that's not likely to happen for many years, given my iron constitution," Harold said in a lighthearted voice – though a shadow had passed over his countenance as well. He gave her a wink. "Who knows? I could very well live to be a hundred… "

"Well, let's start with two children," Marian said firmly, getting to her feet. Now that rational practicality had convinced her to curtail any dreamy-eyed notions of having a large family, she wasn't about to let Harold get lost in such flights of fancy.

Although as they packed the blanket, pillows and lunch things in the tuba case, Marian couldn't help reflecting that her mother and father had become parents to Winthrop rather late in life, and neither of them had ever expressed the least regret that things had happened the way they did. Even after her father had passed away, her mother had never complained about bearing the burden of being a widow with a young child…

But as husband and wife began to walk back down the hill together, Marian put such thoughts out of her mind. God willing, they had years and years ahead of them to ponder such inevitabilities and, when Harold wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her closer to his side, she focused her senses entirely on the present moment. Nestling into her husband's embrace, Marian reveled in the warmth of the sun on her skin and dreamily drank in the blossom-perfumed air. The couple's pace back to town was slow and meandering and, every so often, Harold halted their progress to take Marian in his arms for a soft, lingering kiss. Happily complicit in his attempts to extend their time alone together for as long as possible, the librarian let out a wistful sigh when she finally felt the pavement of civilization beneath her feet and her music professor moved away to a much more respectable distance – though he did keep a gentle hand on the small of her back as he escorted her down River City's avenues.

Her mind returning to the prosaic along with her physical self, Marian was struck with a sudden thought – one that made her cheeks flush with barely-repressed mirth.

Harold immediately noticed. "Yes, darling?"

"It's foolish of me, I suppose," she said, giving in to her inclination to laugh, "but I can't help wondering what ultimately came of that betting pool regarding our engagement!"

Harold's face lit up with a suspiciously triumphant grin. Though he soon schooled his features back into a neutral expression and innocently inquired, "What betting pool?" it was too late. Reaching out to take his hand, Marian tugged her husband to a halt. "Harold," she said warningly, "what did you do?"

At her prodding, he burst into laughter. "Well, I _won_ that betting pool, if you really want to know – courtesy of an anonymous bet made on my behalf by Marcellus, sometime in the middle of October."

Marian gasped. "Oh, Harold!" she scolded.

"What?" he asked with a defensive shrug. "If people are foolish enough to risk their money betting on our personal affairs, why shouldn't we gain from it?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Did you _start_ that betting pool?"

Harold laughed again. "No, I wasn't that scheming!" he earnestly assured her. "And the proceeds from the pool were pretty meager, anyhow – especially as I had to give Marcellus a cut of the winnings – what? I couldn't let him go unrewarded for his kind assistance," he explained when she gaped at him. After a pause, he added, "If it helps, every cent of that money went into financing our wedding." As Marian's expression softened, he grinned triumphantly again. "I thought it both a fitting and ingenious solution."

"Deviously ingenious," Marian retorted, though she now regarded her husband with more affection than censure. "You and your conman ingenuity! What kind of lessons are you planning to teach our child?"

Harold chuckled and laid a gentle hand on her swollen stomach. "Mind your mother, and follow _her_ example," he replied, a note of real sincerity belying his playful tone of voice.

XXX

When they finally arrived home, Harold quietly observed his wife as she paused by the front-hall mirror to remove her hat and smooth back any stray curls that had fallen out of her chignon. He was pleased to note that despite their long walk, which he feared might prove too exhausting, the dull, worrisome listlessness had completely disappeared from her demeanor. In fact, with the blush in her cheeks and sparkle in her eyes, Marian looked healthier than she had in weeks. Pregnancy had given her beauty an additional radiance – when she wasn't missing him as much as he missed her.

However, Harold still felt that glimmer of uncertainty – which he immediately alleviated by promising himself he would have a chat with Dr. Pyne as soon as he could arrange it, in order to put his conscience completely at ease. And if the good doctor's advice was to abstain completely, he would hate to miss this final opportunity to make love to his wife. Their canoodling in the field had merely whet his appetite and, he was certain, hers too.

But still, Harold hesitated. "How are you feeling, darling?" he asked, his voice laced with tender concern.

"Wonderful," Marian replied, sounding just as content as she had when he asked that question earlier.

Harold grinned; that was exactly the answer he had been hoping to hear. "Good," he said sincerely, turning her to face him. Cupping her cheeks with his hands, he captured her mouth in a soft kiss. As their embrace slowly intensified, his hands stroked their way from her cheeks to her ears and the nape of her neck, until his fingers threaded through her hair, disheveling it once again.

When they finally broke apart for air, Harold smiled impishly and said, "I think you should retire for the evening."

Marian gazed at him with a gleam of mischief in her eyes. "It's barely after five," she coyly teased.

Harold's smile turned into a full-fledged grin, and he twined one of her loose curls around his finger. "Well, I think you should retire anyway."

"I'm not tired," she said provocatively. "I thought I might read in the parlor for a little while."

Normally, Harold would have bantered with her longer, but desire made him serious. Leaning in, he pressed his mouth against her neck, lightly at first, but then harder, until Marian let out a soft moan and tightened her arms around him.

"I think you should go to bed," he said in a solemn voice. His eyes found hers. "And I think I should join you."

Marian grew serious as well. "I think that's a very wise idea," she gravely agreed.

Earlier, Harold had contentedly concluded he couldn't think of a single better way to pass the time than lying together with his dear little librarian in a faraway field and caressing her beneath a warm June sun. But he now reflected that walking upstairs with her nestled in his arms was equally as pleasurable, if not more so. Though Harold had made love to Marian in other rooms of their house, the bedroom was still his favorite place to take her. Whereas trysts in other rooms were usually spontaneous in nature, nothing beat the wonderful silence on the way to their bedroom – it was a delightfully charged silence, filled with the excitement of anticipation.

But just before they entered their bedroom, Marian halted on the threshold and turned to Harold with a wry smile. "We might as well have stayed home, after all, if this is where we're going to end up."

"Oh now, darling," he affectionately chided, waving a finger at her, "surely you expected a better birthday gift from me than that!" He smiled impishly. "But if I had known that's all you really wanted, I might just have taken you up on your offer this morning… "

Marian's expression grew solemn. "Harold, I wouldn't have traded our afternoon together for anything," she said softly. "It's the best birthday present I've gotten in a long time."

Harold took her hands in his. "Marian," he said in a low voice, "when you took me to that field last October, it only reinforced just how much I wanted to be with you. From then on, I was adamant that afternoon wouldn't be the last time we were alone together like that. Today won't be the last time, either – no matter how many children we have."

Gazing at him with that lovely dreamy expression, she replied, "Well then, I look forward to our next time alone together."

"Say now, my dear little librarian," Harold admonished with a mischievous grin, "who says the festivities have to end just yet? Your birthday isn't over for quite awhile; we still have several hours until midnight… "

Marian's gleeful laughter rang throughout the upstairs hallway as he pulled her into their bedroom and shut the door solidly behind them.


End file.
